


paint another picture, see who’s surprised

by DeepComplaint (HermioneGrangerTwin)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Excessive use of the word fuck, Insecurity, Kravitz writes music and conducts for the local symphony, M/M, Panic Attacks, Taako owns his own restaurant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGrangerTwin/pseuds/DeepComplaint
Summary: If Sarah or Shannon or whatever her name was got more Vitamin C or something, the date would have been fine. Actually, this was Creesh’s fucking fault for suggesting the idea in the first place.The evening at Sips and Strokes doesn't go to plan and panic ensues. Taako makes chicken piccata. Kravitz tries his hand at a new art. Lucretia tries to maintain balance.





	paint another picture, see who’s surprised

**Author's Note:**

> The plot of this was inspired (or pulled directly from) a conversation I had with my partner-in-crime, Carly, about Taakitz doing one of these painting classes while we were at a painting class. So, massive thanks to her, for inadvertently causing my brain to want to write an actual fanfiction for the first time in more than six years. It was a lot of fun to project onto these good boys in love for 7k words.

If Sarah or Shannon or whatever her name was got more Vitamin C or something, the date would have been fine. Actually, this was Creesh’s fucking fault for suggesting the idea in the first place.

Taako had been telling her that Kravitz was interested in trying his hand at painting or drawing or something that wasn’t arranging a brass section so those “absolute fuckers” didn’t drown out the whole orchestra. He was clearly getting burned out from constantly working on the symphony or whatever the fuck Raven had commissioned and was focused on it to the point that Taako was concerned Krav was going to withdraw from society. He needed a new creative outlet.

“Oh, I have a friend teaching a class on Wednesday at Sips and Strokes, if you’re looking for somewhere to start. The schedule calls for a beach sunset landscape, I think.”

Taako thought that sounded incredibly pedestrian, but he’d try anything once, especially if Krav was interested. And he was, so Taako came home from the café  on Wednesday and started the process of pulling Kravitz out of his work. 

He went into the room where Krav sat with pages upon pages of half-filled sheet music, despite his perfectly good computer two feet to his left on the desk. Taako kissed him on the side of his head as Krav remained focused intently, and cheerfully said, “Hey, babe, how’s it going?”

Kravitz exhaled and leaned into Taako’s side, clearly needing physical contact. “It’s...fine. Made some progress today, but at this point, I don’t know if what I threw at the wall will stick or not.”

Taako hummed sympathetically, stroking a hand over Kravitz’s head, scratching lightly at his scalp. He didn’t know shit about music undeterred by Lup’s attempts and Barry’s explanations in college. He’s lived with Krav for six months now and still hasn’t picked up on much other than he likes to hear the music Kravitz makes floating in the air of the apartment. “Do you need time to work or a distraction?”

Krav tilted his head back to look at Taako’s face, eyes tired, but smiling softly. “As much as I want to choose distraction, dove, I could use a little more time on this section, if you don’t mind. Something’s not quite right.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get started on dinner early since we gotta produce a new Picasso or whatever tonight.” His hand trailed down Krav’s face, fingers brushing across his temple and cheeks to cradle his jaw, and he pressed a quick kiss to Krav’s lips. 

Drawing back, he noticed Kravitz was looking less tired as he turned his face to press a kiss to Taako’s fingers. “Love you.”

Taako grinned and headed out to the kitchen. He decided he would keep it simple tonight. Chicken piccata ought to do it, especially with the Sauvignon Blanc they planned to take with them to the class tonight. They might be doing a simple sunset, but Taako was going to enjoy himself somehow even if it required vino to ease the way. Or maybe he’d go off book, start producing his own masterpiece.

Regardless of Lup’s prodding, the only artistic endeavor Taako had even remotely pursued while getting his double degree was painting with Lucretia most Tuesday nights. After spending too much time with numbers in marketing classes, it helped to get out of his head and just...let his arm lead some color across a canvas, to allow little details to not matter so much, even if only for a couple of hours. Taako appreciated Creesh’s ability to allow silence between the two of them as he followed her brush strokes. Silence could be good, like it is now, Taako settling into a rhythm of seasoning and dredging the chicken.

True to his word, Kravitz came out of his office as Taako was just placing the chicken into the pan, wrapping his arms around Taako’s waist, kissing his neck. “Hi.”

“Hi, handsome,” Taako replied, pressing his shoulders more firmly back into Krav’s chest. “Get anything figured out?”

“Yeah, I think I made some real headway. Sorry I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about your arrival.”

“Oh, you were plenty clear that you were glad I was home.”

“Well, yes, but I feel like I didn’t give you a proper greeting,” he said, chin propped against Taako’s shoulder, thumbs sweeping up and down his stomach. “Can I help with dinner?”

Taako thought about telling him no and continuing to soak up the gestures of affection, but he actually had some Kravitz-capable tasks. His boyfriend always loved to help when he could, feeling bad about Taako often cooking when he came home from work. “Yeah, could you chop one of the lemons I laid out there and squeeze the juice into the pan and then chop parsley for me?”

He could feel Krav’s smile grow wider against his shoulder. “I’d love to.” This, regrettably, required Kravitz to let go of Taako’s middle, but Taako had to rinse capers and grab stock anyway.

With Kravitz’s help, the meal came together in the pan quickly and they talked idly of Taako’s day and how Ren was doing taking over some responsibilities. “She keeps insisting on asking me if she can make tweaks like I ever do anything the same way twice. You’d think she’d only been workin’ for me for two months and not literal years.”

Kravitz chuckled, drawing Taako into his arms while the dish simmered quietly, everything almost ready to serve. “It’s almost like she respects you and what you’ve built.”

Taako rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile. “Almost.” Pressed a kiss onto the corner of Kravitz’s mouth. Kravitz immediately responded with more intent, hands sliding up Taako’s back. One, between his shoulder blades, pushed Taako flush with his body while one slipped into the short hairs at the nape of Taako’s neck, freezing fucking cold fingers making Taako startle with a small sound. They’ve really gotta do something about Krav’s circulation. Get him some fingerless gloves or something. Gods, as if that wouldn’t add to Kravitz’s undeniable hipster aesthetic. Taako initially found it insufferable, believing him to be another one of his sister’s unbearable acquaintances from the symphony or the lab. He discovered after an hour of conversation at that first party, though, that there wasn’t an ounce of pretension in Krav.

Kravitz withdrew from Taako’s lips like taffy from a puller, his palm skimming against the side of his neck, thumb caressing his jaw, fingers dangerously close to his ear. Taako’s stomach flipped at the realization that the smallest motion of Krav’s index finger against his earlobe could turn Taako’s knees wobbly and body pliant embarrassingly quickly. “I’m really glad we’re going on a date tonight,” Krav said, voice husky and undeniably fond.

Taako huffed a laugh. He can’t believe how much fucking sap flows so easily from Kravitz, like a fountain of affirmation and love. “I’d believe it, my dude. You’ve just about been a hermit the last coupla weeks.”

“Gods, it feels so much longer,” Kravitz groaned. “I’ll be glad when this piece is done and I can get to conduct it.”

Taako smiled, pulling away to grab plates and deposit the chicken onto them. “Let’s focus on keeping you from going completely off the deep end until then, huh?”

After a pleasant dinner, after an uneventful drive downtown to find parking and walk with their wine to the Sips and Strokes, they walked into the room to find Lucretia setting up at the front of the room.

And that’s when the night began to run off the rails.

* * *

 

Kravitz grinned when he saw Lucretia meting out brushes onto plastic palettes. As much as he loves Taako, sometimes his family could be out of control. Lucretia was generally a balm at parties and dinners, happy to quietly add her perspective to Kravitz’s work or discuss her graduate work in archival studies. But he’d never seen her at work with painting, something she’d mentioned in passing a few times, and he was excited to see her in her creative space.

“Creesh!” Taako called from the doorway, heading over to her. “You commandeering this painting shit show tonight?” Kravitz looked around to see if anyone was listening. Taako was close to Lucretia, but loud enough to be overheard. “I thought your friend, uh, Sheila was running this brush bonanza.”

Lucretia turned, already mid-eyeroll, but smiling mildly. “ _ Siobhan _ has strep, so she asked me if I could take over her class. Hello, Kravitz. It’s good to see you. How’s the concerto going?”

Kravitz shrugged. “It’s going, I suppose. The violin is scored, but arranging for the rest of the orchestra is a bit of a bear.”

“I can imagine how that would be,” she replied, puffing air out of her cheeks. “When I lived with Killian, next door to that awful trumpet player, it was all I could do to hear myself think.”

“Yes, exactly! If you can’t hear the soloist over some overenthusiastic assholes in the back—”

“—then it’s not much of a concerto, is it?” Lucretia finished with Kravitz, taking a breath to continue the conversation when Taako said, “So, will it be sunsets on the coast tonight or something a lil’ more unconventional?”

Lucretia sighed. “Once they put out the schedule, it has to be the same picture the customers signed up for, so unfortunately for you, you’ll be in the beach grass tonight.”

Kravitz wrapped his free arm around Taako’s side to place a hand on the small of his back, exposed by the high hem of his crop top. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be a good time regardless. We should probably let you finish getting things ready.”

As Kravitz led Taako away, he said, “At least I’ll have Merle’s Candlenights present done. That fucker loves the beach too fuckin’ much for one person. And don’t even get me fuckin’ started on his relationship with beach grass. I swear to you, I caught him whispering to it when I was staying at his house, it was the most disturbing shit I’ve ever witnessed and I’ve worked in diner kitchens. And Dav was  _ right fuckin’ there _ !”

Kravitz resisted the urge to poke at Taako’s obvious affection for the men who were his fathers in all but name. It wouldn’t do to point out that if he hated Merle so much, he wouldn’t worry about getting him a gift at all. He didn’t want a prickly Taako, as much fun as it was to rile him up. “So, where would you like to sit, dove?”

Taako surveyed the scene, many of the seats already filled. “How about on the side here?” he suggested, gesturing towards the right side of a long table.

Kravitz’s brow furrowed. There weren’t two free easels next to each other on that side. “We’d have to sit across from each other.”

“Yeah! I thought we could do a grand reveal when we’ve suitably imitated the masters. Add a little drama to the evening.”

Kravitz narrowed his eyes. “Is this so I can’t try to stop you when you don’t paint the beach scene?”

Taako scoffed. “Nah, babe, I’ll paint the ocean. I just said I’m gonna give this to Merle. No point in paving a new road on the way to Canvastown.”

Lucretia approached the two of them with palettes and brushes in her hands. “So, where are you two sitting?”

Taako looked expectantly at Kravitz who breathed out dramatically in acquiescence and said, “Those two easels over there across from each other.” Taako grinned and Kravitz felt his heart expand. He was so weak for this man.

Lucretia nodded and put their supplies down, moving on to retrieve supplies for the next group coming in.

“Well,” Kravitz said, setting the wine bottle in the gap between their work spaces, “I’m sure the reveal won’t be that grand.”

Taako gave him half a smirk, grabbing the nearby provided plastic cups and pouring some wine into them. “You never know, you might unveil a secret Van Gogh under that tortured musician’s soul. Still tortured, just a new arena.”

“Haha, you think you’re so funny.” Kravitz tried to maintain a straight face and flat tone, but he felt the corners of his mouth drifting up anyway as he arranged his brushes according to size to the right of his easel.

“You and I both know my sardonic wit is part of the Taako charm,” he said, leaning over the table and crowding into Kravitz’s space to kiss him on the corner of his traitorous mouth as he put down the wine. “You love every second.”

Kravitz was saved the effort of trying and failing to refute that patently factual claim by Lucretia announcing the beginning of the class.

She lead them through division of the canvas into sections for the sky, ocean, and sand, beginning with their chosen colors for the sunset. Lucretia chose orange and pink, but encouraged the room: “Choose the colors you enjoy seeing in a sunset!” So, Kravitz decided upon almost twilight, the sun coral as it sinks below the horizon, most of the sky lilac and plum with aubergine at the upper edge.

Lucretia wandered the room, eyeing Taako’s for a long moment. “Huh. Have you painted since undergrad?”

Taako shrugged. “Nah, homie. Been too busy running a business, you feel? Glad to hear I haven’t forgotten though. Why mess with perfection?”

Kravitz raised his eyebrows as he tried to get the paint to spread on the canvas evenly. He’d never mentioned… “You used to paint?”

Taako leaned around his easel to look at Kravitz. “Yeah, babe! Didn’t Creesh ever tell you we used to paint together?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Lucretia circled around to Kravitz’s painting. “Oh, that’s a beautiful choice, Kravitz. Be careful not to get the dark into the light too much.”

Kravitz nodded, suddenly concerned that maybe he should’ve started with what Lucretia had chosen. At least that way, he’d know the proportions and how they should be mixed and —

“Okay, so you should be almost done with your sky now. Take a minute or so to finish up. Also, make sure you paint along the side of the canvas. That will make it look more polished.”

Well, there was no time to worry about it now; he’d have to go with what he’d chosen. He finished the pure aubergine section and began to blend down into the lilac, making sure the colors looked natural. Maybe he’d gone too far down? If he added a little more to the lilac to the middle and went up...but now more pink from the sun out. Is the middle right?

“Alright, so now let’s work on the ocean. We already made that blue line right above center, let’s work with the dark blue first for about...half an inch below that line. Don’t worry too much about exactly how far to go down, though, just make sure to leave room for the foam and the waves.”

Okay, Kravitz. Just move on from the sky. It looks fine.

The dark blue paint went on without incident, but once again, blending in the lighter colors proved to be a challenge. The lightest colors in the foam were...okay. It was just impossible to get the color he was looking for in the middle. And the waves should be bluer, shouldn’t they?

“Let’s let that dry and move onto the sand. We are going to go back to the ocean in a bit to reflect your sunset colors, so don’t get too granular on the colors.”

As she gave instructions for the sand, Kravitz surveyed his work. This wasn’t going as he expected. He hadn’t assumed he’d be a secret painting prodigy; he had assumed that this would be a respite from fixation on small details. But gods, he’d just transferred his overanalyzing from one activity to another and there was no hope of him knowing how to fix anything with this one.

“What you’re going to do now is get a tiny bit of your closest color to the sun and work a little shadow out and down from the sun into the ocean at this kind of angle,” Lucretia said, turning her left wrist thirty degrees. “When you’ve used all of that color on your brush, get the same amount of the next color and continue in a triangle point away from the sun until you’ve reflected all your colors. And you see how I’m not starting right at the end of the last color? You’ll want to overlap the colors so they blend.”

_ Great, more blending. But it’s fine,  _ Kravitz thought, dipping the tip of his smallest brush into the coral paint. _ More practice is good, right? If I just keep blending in a triangle, it’ll turn out fine. I’ll get the hang of it. It’ll be fine. Oh fuck, this was not his most defined triangle shape. _

Lucretia worked around the room again, examining everyone’s work, showing support, offering suggestions, answering questions. Kravitz dreaded her approach, dreaded hearing a reassuring tone telling an obvious lie. He understood that she was basically contractually obligated to tell everyone how great they were doing, but he didn’t need that. He needed the anxiety and disappointment to pass so that he could go on pretending that it didn’t bother him how uneven and messy it was.

When she arrived at Kravitz’s side, however, it wasn’t a showy selection of one thing that she liked from his painting; she simply smiled. “This is very good.”

Taako craned his neck around his easel, as if to get a peek, and Kravitz shot him a Look. “I thought we were doing drama tonight.”

“We were, but your face looks so serious. You creating a masterpiece over there?” He had a wide grin as he poked fun at Kravitz.

Kravitz answered with a grimace. “Not so much.”

Taako’s face was still smiling, but his eyes had turned to searching Kravitz’s face, head tilted. “If Creesh thinks it looks good, babe, I’m sure this’ll be another one of Krav’s many talents.” When Kravitz didn’t respond, Taako extended his hand, “Are you—”

Lucretia interrupted with a clap. “So, now we have the grass to put in. The best part about the grass is that you don’t have to have a certain arrangement, you can just make lots of little lines up. Start with brown on your smallest brush and brush up. Make some long blades and then shorter ones around that and then even shorter than that on the fringes.” She demonstrated the motion with her brush, a swift swipe up with the little brush, a perfect blade of grass. “And then we’ll echo all that in yellow.”

_ Okay, Kravitz. There is no wrong way to make this grass. Just get some paint and do it. _ So, he put some paint on his brush and swiped up.

It was definitely the wrong way to make this grass. The blade was too wide. The line should have been much thinner. He must have held the brush at the wrong angle, because it didn’t look remotely like Lucretia’s. It was just one blade, though. He could just adjust his grip on the brush and spin it around a little. It would be fine. So, he adjusted his grip and twisted the brush ninety degrees.

The next blade was just as wide.  _ How? _

Lucretia must have sensed his disgust, because she appeared at his painting and said, “What’s up?”

“Well,” Kravitz exhaled. “They’re too wide.”

Lucretia tilted her head to the side. “They look fine? Just keep going and don’t be so precise about it? They’ll look fine.”

Kravitz looked at her with disbelief as Taako snorted from the other side of his canvas. “Less precise? Have you ever...spoken to Kravitz?”

Lucretia gave Taako a withering look. “I have and he’s here to have fun and be creative without pressure, so don’t pressure him.”

“I hav—when have you ever seen cha boy fuckin’  _ pressure _ someone?” He asked, rising from his stool with indignance.

“I’m not saying you are, but—”

“Oh no, that’s def def  _ def _ what you said I’m doing, for  _ sure _ .”

“No, I—”

“Hey!” Kravitz exclaimed. Both Lucretia and Taako stopped dead, suddenly realizing there were other people in this class and some of them were staring. Kravitz cleared his throat and said, with measured calm, “So, do you have any solutions for my grass problem?”

Taako huffed a laugh, now seated again. “Is that what’s going on at home when I’m not there?”

Kravitz rolled his eyes, but didn’t acknowledge his boyfriend, continuing to look at Lucretia.

“Probably a lighter touch with the brush would help. Less pressure—” she winced at her own choice of words, “would probably make the line thinner.” She tried to smile for the benefit of her authority with the class.

“Thank you. I’ll try that.”

She nodded and did a quick walk around the room, checking in with other the other customers, who were starting to go back to their own conversations, although there was definitely a tone to the room now that they’d seen something scandalous, unaware that this sort of blow-up was all too common among Taako’s found family.

Kravitz went back to his lines, trying to be lighter which produced the effect that he was hoping for. Of course, now the two blades in the center looked out of place, but this was never going to be perfect and that was expected. He took a deep breath, trying to get fresh, unanxious air in his lungs, staving off the feeling of being watched and falling short. He finished up the long brown grass and the second pass in shorter yellow strokes and while waiting for the next instruction, took long sips of his wine, barely touched from how he’d constantly been working until Lucretia gave them another task.

“The last part is the shadow of the grass. Take some blue and try to match the placement of your blades, but slightly shorter,” she said, demonstrating the foreshortened blades for the class, and then added, with a jerk of her head, as if she’d only barely remembered something. “Except you, Kravitz.” His neck stiffened and he felt the scrutiny of the strangers in the room again. “You’ll want to make yours longer.”

Taako sniggered, and quietly (for him) said, “Yeah, he will.”

Kravitz gripped his stool with one hand to settle his nerves while he finished off his cup with the other. He could do this without panicking. It was possible. He just had to keep breathing until he could get out of here. Lucretia headed over and said, “I love what you’ve done and to stick with that look, I would suggest you paint your shadows for the medium grass almost to the edge of your canvas and the long grass off the edge. Does that make sense?”

Kravitz nodded and felt again like he  _ definitely _ should have stuck with Lucretia’s style. But as he followed her instructions, the shadows went fairly easily, looked like they matched with not very much effort. His chest loosened slightly and he hadn’t even realized it was tight. Mirroring his previous work was simple and came out looking...almost good. He was happy with the shadows. 

But the wide blades of grass? The relatively unblended middle colors of the sky? The strangely shaped reflections of color? It certainly could have gone better.

Lucretia did one last round of the room and smiled warmly. “These all look so good, everyone. Let them dry for five, ten minutes? Then you’ll be good to go.”

The sound in the room rose 15 decibels in a wave and Taako stood up and stretched his arms above his head, his shirt showing most of his stomach, making Kravitz feel warmer. Taako gave Kravitz a wide smile when he noticed him looking, teeth shining. “You ready to switch sides and be amazed by my painting prowess, hot stuff?”

Kravitz felt the anxiety bleed off like magic as he looked at Taako’s excitement, heard the affection in his voice, and the warmth Kravitz had felt was now bursting in his chest and filling his heavy limbs. “Yeah, more than ready.”

They passed each other at the side of the table with a brush of hands, Kravitz’s fingers itching to hold onto Taako. Then, he saw Taako’s painting and he felt himself gaping. It was  _ perfect _ .

* * *

 

As Taako rounded the table, he caught sight of the deep purple on the edge of the canvas, and he knew he was going to love Krav’s painting. The full view, though, was breathtaking.

He had nearly perfectly captured the way it looked at Merle’s when the sun was just a hair from dipping below the horizon on a perfect summer evening. There was motion in the bend of the grass and Taako knew the breeze that caused that. The waves seemed to be rolling in in the middle distance and the sky? The lilac at the edges of the setting sun’s pink glow? The almost black of the night rolling in? It was  _ alive _ and  _ gorgeous _ and he glanced up at his boyfriend to tell him so and found Krav looking like he’d been punched in his beautiful face. “You didn’t tell me—you never said you could do this,” he said, sounding...embarrassed? What the fuck?

“You’re one to talk, babe. This—”

“No,” Kravitz said, shaking his head like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Yours is—Mine doesn’t even—”

Taako furrowed his brow. “I just did—mine is just a copy of Creesh’s, it’s not like...yours is.” 

Kravitz pursed his lips as he looked into Taako’s eyes, an expression that Taako had seen before, but only when Taako had been deliberately trying to rile Krav up in public and was being silently asked to stop. “You don’t have to lie to me, Taako.”

“Are you...fishing for compliments? Because I literally just did the exact same painting as Lucretia and you—”

“Yes, it’s perfect,” Kravitz agreed, but to the wrong thing, glancing between the easel in front of him to Lucretia’s example at the front of the room. “It’s uncanny.”

“Yeah, I mean,” Taako said, starting to feel like he was missing something vital in this conversation. “I’m great or whatever. It wasn’t hard, I had, like, a thousand hours of practice and shit with her. You just created this...this fuckin’ gem on your first try, my guy? I’m not exaggerating. This is amazing.”

Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, because more than anything, Krav looked annoyed, borderline pissed and Taako  _ really _ couldn’t figure out why. “You ready to go home?” Kravitz said, collecting the almost untouched bottle of wine.

Taako didn’t want to stop making eye contact with Krav, wanted to keep trying to decipher what was going on right now, but Kravitz wasn’t looking at him. So, he touched the edges of Krav’s painting and when they came away clean, he picked it up and said, “Sure, babe.”

They said goodbye to Creesh on the way out, Taako confirming that he’d see her at lunch on Monday and Kravitz thanking her for a great class. Despite his genuine tone with Creesh, Krav was stiff, walking with perfect posture by Taako’s side, the wine cradled in the crook of his left arm and both hands holding Taako’s stupid fuckin’ painting.

“What do you wanna do when we get home, handsome?” he asked, crooking his left arm around Kravitz’s elbow, trying not to feel like he fucked something up. “I vote we get down on this bottle of wine and watch Great British Bake Off on Netflix. What do you think?”

Kravitz shrugged, not turning to look at Taako.

Taako’s stomach felt heavy, but like it could float out of his mouth at any moment. “Well, as soon as I get this fuckin’ face off.”

Kravitz nodded wordlessly and his body abruptly loosened, sagging at his joints as he leaned his shoulder against Taako’s. Relief flooded Taako’s gut and his the lump that had formed in his throat evaporated. He still wanted to ask if Kravitz was mad, if he could fix it, but that was...a little too serious for this sitch. I mean, this wasn’t a big deal, right? Nothing to start a fuckin’  _ conversation _ about.

It wasn’t because he was afraid of the answer.

Kravitz continued to loosen up on the drive home with the help of Taako’s bomb-ass playlist “Kravitz is a nerd and only listens to Mozart and Fleetwood Mac”. By the time they were halfway home, Kravitz was nerding out on one of the songs on the playlist, telling Taako about why  _ Tusk _ should get as much recognition as  _ Rumours _ , and maybe more for the “sheer insanity of having to follow up an album as successful and critically acclaimed as  _ Rumours _ , but not making  _ Rumours 2.0 _ .”

Gods, Taako loved this fuckin’ dork. He reached over and laid his hand on Krav’s shoulder, scratching at the nape of his neck. Unable to help himself, he said, “Hey, you know what?”

Kravitz was smiling and distracted by focusing on the road and Taako’s fingernails, not seeing how  _ soft _ Taako had gotten. “What?”

“It should be illegal how cute you are when you’re giving a fuckin’ dissertation on music history.”

Kravitz blushed, Taako’s thumb absorbing the heat from the side of his face. “I’d hardly call 1979 ‘music history’, Taako.” A grin crossed his face, teeth gleaming in the dim light of the streetlamps. “If you want a  _ real _ music history lesson, I could talk about how Verdi innovated with bel canto style and blurred the lines between aria and recitative.”

“Thanks, baby, but Taako’s good on that one. Don’t need a nap in the car tonight.” Taako tried to sound dismissive, but it definitely came out more fond.

“Are you sure? That’s not even really my area of expertise; it wouldn’t take  _ that _ long.” He still had a shit-eating grin and Taako couldn’t believe how stupidly endearing that was. He couldn’t allow Kravitz to have the upper hand here.

“I’m sure I don’t need a lecture on Vivaldi to find you adorable.”

Taako rode on the high of Krav’s bashfulness the rest of the way home.

When they walked in the door, Krav set the wine on the coffee table and said, still moving towards the master bathroom, “I’m gonna use the bathroom before you do the whole skin routine.”

“Hey, buddy, that routine’s gonna keep me beautiful and smooth when you’re a wrinkly old man.”

“I’m only three years older—”

“Can’t hear you out here,” Taako lied, looking over their paintings, deciding immediately to stow Merle’s future gift in the linen closet. Gods know that filthy gremlin wouldn’t look in there. But Krav’s art needed a home on the wall, for sure. As he looked around the living room, he spotted an old picture on the wall of him and Barry and Maggie. They were in high school and Taako still had those  _ bangs _ . He distinctly remembered Lup lining them up and forcing “her boys” to stand still and take “one goddamn good picture for once.” Taako had that calculated look of disgust as Magnus lifted him off the ground in one of his bear hugs. Barry was the only one following instructions, posing properly for the camera and smiling. Kiss ass.

Why is that even on the wall? There’s no way he would have hung that up. Lup must have put this up when she was over last night for dinner. Taako took down the picture and hung Kravitz’s canvas in its place. It looked instantly like it belonged with the other photos: Taako on the beach with Merle and Dav and Lup, Kravitz and Taako after Krav’s last donor concert, Taako and Kravitz slow dancing at Barry and Lup’s wedding 8 months ago. Kravitz had just asked, in a rush like he couldn’t hold back any longer, “Do you think—how would you—what would you think about moving in with me?” as his hands shook at Taako’s hip and the small of his back. “I live three blocks from the café and I know you like my kitchen and you spend most of your time there anyway and —”

Taako cut him off with a kiss, heart pounding high, almost in his throat, arms yanking Krav’s body against his. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Might have to throw in a couple perks, though. Your green sweater to start.”

It only took a few seconds for Lup to loudly complain that they were  _ so _ gross like Taako hadn’t put up with her crush on Barry for  _ seven years _ . Like they weren’t at an event specifically designated for her to be gross with her husband.

“What are you doing?” 

Taako turned around and found Kravitz had returned from the bathroom with his locs now loose around his shoulders, in his sweatpants and green sweater looking...blank?

“I was just remembering how gay you were when you asked me to move in here, and on that note, I think that sweater belongs to me, bucko.”

Krav’s eyebrows twitched, but his expression didn’t change. “No, I meant with the painting.”

Taako smiled brightly, genuinely, as he tried to determine Kravitz’s feelings. “Well, babe, it’s art, so I figured it should go up somewhere and gods knows this picture—” he gestured at the atrocity of his high school self, “—that Lup snuck in doesn’t belong on the wall. I had those  _ bangs _ .”

Kravitz narrowed his eyes, tilted his head slightly, swallowed, and said, “I told you already you don’t have to do that.” Just as even and flat as before.

Now Taako was the one tilting his head. “Do...what?” Hang up the painting? Talk about his bangs? Blame Lup?

“Protect my feelings. Painting was just an experiment and it failed, and that’s fine.” He made eye contact with Taako briefly and then redirected to his right shoulder. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better about it.”

Taako didn’t consider himself a genius, but he really didn’t understand what Kravitz was upset about. “I’m...not? It’s pretty fuckin’ incredible, bubeleh, that you painted that fuckin’ thing right out the gate.”

“Taako, stop.” Kravitz was still starting over Taako’s shoulder. “Just stop. I’m not—I know I’ve been busy and the concerto keeps me a little...in my head, but I’m not fragile. I know it’s not good and you can just...say that.”

Taako felt the incredulity on his face almost before he registered the incredulous feeling in his chest. His chin jutted out defiantly without any input or thought as he said, “Krav, what the fuck are you even talking about?” He could feel the flush in his ears like seeing oncoming traffic, his heart was picking up speed. His body was moving five steps ahead, sensing the unhappiness in Kravitz, lungs acting like his foot skipped a step on the stairs. His throat was tight. Kravitz was all the way across the room and the distance seemed to be increasing. “Do you want to know how I really feel about the painting?” He didn’t wait for Kravitz to answer, content that Kravitz was making eye contact again, his mouth barrelling on at the same pace as his brain. “Okay, your color scheme is fucking baller, you know how I love purple. Your grass looks like it’s blowing in the wind and the sea is moving. It honestly looks like my favorite version of being at Merle’s. It feels like...” he stopped himself from saying “home” by the skin of his clenched teeth. “It’s beautiful.”

Kravitz’s eyes darted over to the painting. “The blending is all wrong on the sky.”

Taako turned to look, to consider Krav’s point. “With that goopy paint on your first try? They looked pretty well-blended to me.” When he turned around, Kravitz was searching the room with his eyes. “You should’ve seen some of my paintings in undergrad. Any problem with the paint and I might as well have been fingerpainting.”

“Where’s yours?”

Taako pointed to the linen closet, “Hid it in there.”

Kravitz retrieved it stiffly, returning to almost the same spot he’d left, maybe a foot closer. “See, your colors are blended perfectly. They look like a real sunset.”

Taako sighed, and his heart slowed slightly. “Yeah, sure, the most boring, cookie cutter sunset. And I followed Lucretia, the thing I did weekly for like, three years?”

“Right, so we agree you’ve had more practice and yours is better—”

“No, wait a fuckin’—”

“—and we can take mine down and put yours up.”

Taako’s shoulders, he recognized with a jolt, were tightly raised towards his ears as he said, “No, I like yours and I think it should be on the wall.”

“No, we’re taking it down,” Kravitz said, still even, and Taako realized, cold. He’d never heard Kravitz cold, not to him. Brusque, tired, annoyed even, but not cold.

“No,  _ we’re _ not. I like looking at it and it should be up.” 

“Well,” Kravitz said, clipped. “I fucking don’t and I live here and I’d  _ like _ to not stare at this fucking thing when I’m in my apartment. Just stop...lying to me.”

Taako couldn’t stop his heated tone. “I don’t understand this at all. I don’t sugarcoat  _ shit _ . You’ve known me almost two years now. When have I ever fuckin’ lied to make someone else feel better?” He couldn’t swallow past something in his throat and his breathing was high in his chest.

Kravitz stood very still, now looking in Taako’s eyes. “I guess I flattered myself different from other people. Thank you for making that particular delusion perfectly clear. I guess I can move on from that.”

Taako’s mind had now caught up with his body, knew they were fighting, that Kravitz was more than unhappy, that this was wrong and Taako fucked up and fuck, he really hadn’t thought he  _ could _ fuck this up. He’d been stupid enough to think he, the master of fucking up good things, was immune on this one. That he could get a pass on this because he was in love and so was Kravitz and he felt safe. But now, they’re fighting about a piece of canvas and Kravitz said  _ my apartment _ and Taako’s body knew long before his stupid brain could get the message and  _ shut up _ and now, his brain was considering how little he could get away with packing tonight if— _ when _ it came to that and  _ fuck _ , why was he about to cry, he didn’t have time for that, he had to keep his shit together and just figure out what was in their—Krav’s apartment that he needed to take to Lup’s. If he could just take a real breath from his punched stomach.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked, voice strained.

Taako opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a gasping sound around whatever was stuck in his throat.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked again, voice closer now. “Are you—what’s going on?”

Taako shrugged, tried to give an airy smile, tried to raise his head, tried to breathe anything but shallow gasps. “Nothing my dude, just—uh—” fuck, there go the tears and any semblance of normalcy. “Just trying to suss out when I should...go?”

“Go?” Kravitz had come even closer, voice now strangled.

“Yeah, bud, you know, get my shit, go to my sister’s, and get out of your apartment.”

“Wh—” Kravitz’s feet were now in Taako’s line of sight. “Why would—do you want to...leave?”

Taako shrugged again and those tears just kept on comin’, huh? “Do I really have a choice?” And the tear dropped from the line on his cheek to the floor as his voice cracked revealingly on the last word.

“I don’t...I don’t want you to leave.”

Taako might have laughed, tried to, but it was hardly distinguishable from a sob, so who’s to say what sound came out of him? “Maybe not right this second, but, uh, it’s coming, right? So, I should probably not overstay my welcome.”

“Dove.” The pet name—soft, hesitant—shot lightning through his gut and his head rose to meet Kravitz’s gaze, which was concerned, distressed, his hand reaching towards Taako. “I’m not breaking up with you over this stupid beach picture.” When Taako didn’t respond, he asked, “Can I touch you?”

Kravitz was acutely aware that Taako didn’t always want to be touched when he was upset, especially when he was vulnerable, scared of being alone. But now, he nodded quickly and Kravitz wiped away the tears on Taako’s cheeks, the brush of his fingers making the knot in his chest loosen, and said, “I’m so sorry. I’m not—I really didn’t mean to make you feel like I—like we—like this was going to be the end of us. Like I didn’t want you here always. I was feeling really insecure about the painting,” he shook his head and bit his lip, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling, “I guess that was obvious, but I honestly thought you were just trying to reassure me and I got caught up in my own aggravation with myself and lumped you in there with that and that wasn’t fair at all. And then, I got caught up in the argument and I fucked up. I just—you were having the same argument with me that you were having with Lucretia and I felt small and I lashed out and that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Taako nodded jerkily, face still held in Kravitz’s hands. His still wet eyes were flitting between meeting Kravitz’s gaze and the ceiling.

“I love you, Taako. With my whole heart. And I should never have given you any reason to doubt that. Because it’s not going to change, especially not because of a painting class.”

Taako actually did laugh this time, a weak, wet chuckle, and his eyes settled more firmly on Kravitz.

Kravitz rubbed his thumbs over Taako’s cheekbones. “There he is,” he murmured.

Taako took a deep break and it emerged shakily and so, he tried again and again, grounded by Krav’s hands, until he could do it without trouble, without feeling like his lungs were gonna make a wild escape attempt out of his ribcage. “I love you too,” he said. He didn’t always say it back, didn’t often say it at all, not usually feeling secure enough to leave his heart wide open. When Kravitz’s eyes widened, though, and a grin spread across his face like he’d been given the whole world instead of a few words, he resolved to reciprocate more.

Krav’s face pinched in its joy, his left hand sliding to rest against the side of Taako’s neck. “I’m so sorry that I caused you to panic. It was such a stupid thing to get angry about and I should’ve believed you.”

Taako pressed his face into the hand still on his cheek. “S’all good, baby. Don’t beat yourself up about it. We all know Taako’s had his share of blowing shit out of proportion.” There was a long pause as Krav rubbed absent minded circles into Taako’s skin. Taako grinned. “If you wanna make it up to me, though, you can blow me out of proportion.”

Kravitz barked a surprised laugh and said, “Love, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Sure it does. Don’t overthink it.”

Kravitz curled his left hand around the back of Taako’s neck, leaning in slowly. “Alright, if you say so,” he said quietly, right before his before his lips met Taako’s in a firm, hot press of his mouth.

Taako had to hand it to Sheryl’s shit immune system; the make-up sex was fuckin’  _ excellent _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Title is pulled from “The Ledge” by Fleetwood Mac, the lyrics of which have almost nothing to do with this fic, but it is a song from Tusk and I honestly could not resist. I also couldn’t resist talking about Verdi because I’m a big fucking nerd, so you'll have to forgive me for that.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Have a great day! I love you!
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr or make me use Twitter @deepcomplaint!


End file.
